Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected] An Old Crucifix on the Garden Gate
Summer is better in theory than in practice
A vision through the window of a shady lawn
All green beneath perfect Robin Hood oaks
Bright leaves, a chair, a book, a glass of tea
But the thermometer stands at 97
Even the shade itself wants to burn oneβs skin
Wasps seem to seek their end in suicide dives
Wanting to die beneath the swing of a hat
Summer is better as abstract theories
And in our happy childhood memories